


Pieced Together

by plokishmok3



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Blood, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Darktober, Gen, Injury, Mad Science, Medical Experimentation, Medical Horror, Neglect, Obsession, Psychological Horror, Self-Harm, Stitches, Supernatural - Freeform, darkoctober, knife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 01:50:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16316846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plokishmok3/pseuds/plokishmok3
Summary: After he blames himself for being unable to save a controversial scientist and his daughter from a fire, Donatello struggles to cope. He does though find some solace in tending to the haggard remains of the daughter's doll that he salvages from the charred wreckage. Quickly though, Donnie begins to obsess over the unnerving doll and begins trying to piece together the late Dr. Mendez's strange work as a means to honor their deaths. Leonardo starts to grow concerned for his brother, however, as Donnie begins to go to more and more drastic lengths to see the late scientist's gory work come to fruition.





	Pieced Together

**Author's Note:**

> Entry for the the TMNT DarkOctober 2018 Fan Event

“Over here, I found him!” Raph shouted over the roar of the burning inferno. Donnie quickly turned and ducked under a thick plume of black smoke as he shuffled along the charring floor along the edge of the stairwell. He covered his mouth as he made his way toward the patch of green in the middle of the orange flames. Rushing into the room, Donnie found Raph standing over a smoldering piece of timber that had fallen from the ceiling, trapping a man beneath it. The beam had fallen across the man’s abdomen, wedging him against the floor and an overturned bureau. Though his face was covered in soot and embers, Donnie felt his heart stop. 

“Dr. Gregory Mendez!” Donnie cried. 

“You know this guy?” Raph asked as the two tried to hoist the beam off the dazed man. 

“He’s a scientist,” Donnie grunted, “well, a controversial one. He’s been shunned for some of his theories on biological decay and resilience, tissue regeneration, and…”

“Now’s not the time,” Raph huffed as managed to only lift the beam an inch. Fiery debris continued to rain down on them as a hellish rain while smoke clouded their eyes. “This isn’t working!”

“Maybe one of us can pull him out from beneath,” Donnie floated. 

“It’s too heavy for one person to hold,” Raph said before turning to the man. “Mendez! Mendez!” The scientist rolled his head and moaned, his eyes half open. Blood seeped from lacerations that lined his face and hands, though some of the wounds appeared to have been sealed over. Are those stitches? Donnie thought for a fleeting moment before a loud splintering crack from above caused him to cower as another beam crashed to the floor behind them. “Come on, dude!” Raph coughed as he jostled the man’s shoulder with his feet. 

“Hold it, Raph,” Donnie said, noticing the man’s lips moving. “I think he’s trying to say something!”

“Wait, Donnie!” Raph said as Donnie let go of the beam. Raph quickly anchored his knee beneath the smoldering wood, grunting as his veins popped out of his arms and neck. Donnie squatted down so he was face to face with Dr. Mendez. Even beneath the soot, Donnie could tell the scientist was pale though a portion of his skin appeared dark and bleak, likely charred in the intense heat. Donnie peered down toward the man’s trapped torso only to see three large, mangled nails piercing into his abdomen, soaking the front of his shirt with dark blood. 

“I… was so… close…,” the man said, his voice so faint that Donnie could barely hear it over the fire. 

“What, what was that?” Donnie asked, leaning closer. 

“My… work… so close…”

“Close? What’s close?” Donnie asked frantically as Dr. Mendez’s head rolled to the side. After a few seconds of silence, Donnie gave the scientist’s cheek a slap. “Dr. Mendez, what are you saying?”

“My… daughter…”

“Your daughter? Is she here? Where is she, Dr. Mendez?” 

“Upstairs…” 

“Your daughter is upstairs? Where, what room?” Donnie asked, but the man’s face slunk to the side as his chest fell for the last time. Donnie quickly hopped to his feet. 

“Well?” Raph grunted. 

“He’s…. He’s gone,” Donnie said. “But we’ve got to head upstairs.”

“Upstairs?” Raph said as he lowered the beam. The two turtles jumped back as a corner of the ceiling collapsed and crashed through the cracking floor. “Are you crazy? It’s too dangerous!” 

“We have to save her,” Donnie said as he sprinted out of the room. 

“Save who? Donnie, wait!” Raph emerged from the doorway in time to see Donnie bounding up the stairs. Raph tried to follow but retreated as part of the wall disintegrated. A jet of flames burst out into the hall, blocking his path. “Donnie!” 

Donnie ignored Raph’s cries as he strode up the stairs, covering his mouth and eyes from the thick smoke. The banister to his right crumbled into charcoal as he paused on the upper floor, sputtering and disoriented. Over the burning roar, Donnie heard a sudden shriek. He took a step forward and heard the childish cry group louder. He took one careful step after another forward along the crumbling floor but suddenly froze as he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to peer into a room to his left and froze, his eyes widening. Crumbling bookcases lined the walls encircling a large desk in the center of the room that glowed orange with hot embers. On top of the desk, an array of glass beakers, flasks, and test tubes were melting into a single bubbling sheet while beside them a large microscope was slowly warping into itself from the heat. Scattered about the room were large piles of papers, notebooks, and folders, all being whipped around in the hot, swirling updraft of the flames. 

Dr. Mendez’s work! His science! Donnie thought. Another shriek pierced through the air, but Donnie remained standing and staring at the scientific carnage before him Donnie’s ears; it was paralyzing. One of the burning scraps of paper floated into his hand, the ink having been rendered nearly illegible with soot. Donnie’s hand trembled. He couldn’t let this work die out, he had to do something! He had to…. Another pleading cry shook Donnie back to his senses; Dr. Mendez’s daughter! 

Donnie turned and rushed down the hall. Gradually, through the thickening smoke, he could see the outline of a doorway and soon the outline of a young girl standing in the middle of her room grasping a small doll in her hands. The bed behind her was fully ablaze as the rest of her charred toys one by one slipped through the widening cracks in the floor. 

“Don’t worry, I’m coming!” Donnie called, but as he rushed forward, a loud crack filled the air as the ceiling caved in just in front of the doorway. Donnie jumped back, shielding his eyes from the wall of flames. He tried to find an opening, but there was none; only the painful screams coming within that were slowly drowned out by the roar of the fire. Donnie stared at the fiery wreckage, his eyes wide. He was too late. Two seconds too late. If only he hadn’t… 

“Donnie! We need to go now!” Raph called from the stairwell. Donnie hesitated for a second before backtracking down the hall and stairs avoiding debris that bounced off his shell and shoulders. Raph had managed to clear some of the burning debris, allowing Donnie to slip through as the two rushed down another flight of stairs to the first floor and out the front door to the dark street outside. The whirl of approaching sirens filled the night air. 

“Donnie, Raph! Over here!” Mikey called from an alley across the street. Donnie and Raph rushed across the street as a brigade of firetrucks rounded the corner. Donnie took cover behind a dumpster just as a loud groan reverberated about the street. Turning around, Donnie saw the building violently shudder before collapsing into a fiery heap.

~~~~~

Leo slowly lifted the lid of the manhole cover to check that the coast was clear. The sun had long since set and dusk was washing over the city skyline as people moseyed their way home for dinner. Ironically, it was that fact that had brought Leo out on his scouting mission; someone had missed their dinner. Leo crept out of the sewer and peered across the street. His heart sank upon seeing the black pile of wood that had once been a home just a few days ago. Amongst the wreckage, Leo saw a sudden flash of green and sighed.

“There you are, Donnie,” Leo muttered. He glanced up and down the street and upon seeing the empty sidewalks, rushed over to the mound of rubble. He maneuvered his way around the charred remains of furniture, roof tiles, and walls until he came upon his brother crouched over a smile pile of debris. “Donnie!” Leo called, but the purple-banded turtle didn’t budge and instead continued to sift through the blackened glass and soot. Leo walked up behind Donnie, noticing the small stack of charred papers under his arm. 

“Donnie,” Leo said more quietly. 

“What?” Donnie asked flatly. 

“You missed dinner.”

“Oh, is it that late already?” Donnie asked, rubbing his temple and consequently covering his face with ash. “I must have lost track of time.”

“What are you doing?” 

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“Donnie,” Leo said, trying to coax more out of his brother, leading to several seconds of silence as Donnie continued his work. “What’s wrong Donnie?”

“Nothing is wrong.”

“Then how’d I know that I’d find you here? Ever since the fire you’ve been even more distant than usual.” Leo put a hand on Donnie’s shoulder but felt his brother slightly pull away. 

“I know losing that family was hard on you. It was hard on all of us. We thought we could help but there was nothing we could do. The fire was already too big by the time we intervened.” Leo squeezed Donnie’s shoulder. “We tried.” 

“But I didn’t,” Donnie said flatly. 

“Yes, you did,” Leo tried to reassure.

“No, I didn’t. When I went upstairs, I came across Dr. Mendez’s study. I saw his life’s work literally going up in flames and I cared more about that then the screams from his daughter. I cared more about losing the science than a goddamn real human being!” Donnie wiped a tear from his eyes. “It’s my fault that his daughter died and I can’t just let my inaction be in vain. I have to piece together something. I have to salvage something. Anything…” Donnie pulled out a relatively intact folder from the ashen pile. 

“Donnie…” Leo comforted. “You can’t beat yourself…” Donnie shook off Leo’s hand. 

“Don’t tell me how I should feel, Leo,” Donnie said, standing up and moving away from Leo. Leo watched Donnie as he meandered around the wreckage, his eyes scanning. Donnie suddenly paused before sprinting forward. Startled, Leo ran after him as he ascended a long section of charred roof before hunching down by a pile of rubble. 

“Donnie!” Leo called. “What are you…?” Leo froze as Donnie lifted a small plush doll from the wreckage. Its artificial hair was mangled and scorched while one of its arms and legs were torn at the seam allowing little tufts of cotton to flutter away. One of the doll’s button eyes dangled out the front of its face on a loose piece of string. Leo watched the button bounce against the doll’s torso as he saw Donnie start to tremble. Leo walked up behind his brother, trying not to draw attention to the tear streaming down the corner of his face, and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. 

“Come on, let’s go home.” 

~~~~~

When Leo and Donnie returned to the lair, Donnie had made a beeline for his laboratory. Leo let him go, to give him space, but moseyed by the lab’s open door a short while later. He saw Donnie hunched over his lab bench surrounded by several spools of thread and needles. Even from a distance, Leo could see the button eye sewn back into place while Donnie was carefully stitching the limbs back into place. The thread didn’t quite match the texture of the doll itself, making it apparent it had been pieced back together, but that didn’t seem to bother Donnie. 

Later that evening, when Leo was tidying up the kitchen before bed, Donnie emerged and went straight to the fridge. Leo had been glad he was putting some food in his body but noticed Donnie clutching the doll firmly in his hand, it’s eyes seeming to pierce into Leo’s soul. 

Over the next few days, Donnie carried the doll with him wherever he went. He brought the doll to training in the dojo, placing it in the corner while they practiced their taijutsu routines. Leo couldn’t shake an unnerving feeling every time he glanced at the doll staring back at them with its haggard form. The moment practice ended Donnie would rush over and swoop up the doll before disappearing back in his lab. 

When Leo poked his head into Donnie’s lab, the doll was never far from his brother either when he was changing the oil on the Shellraiser or soldering circuits under a microscope. One morning, Leo even caught Donnie snuggling with the doll on the cot in his lab. Leo understood that the doll provided some comfort and closure for Donnie, but after days turned into weeks, Leo became concerned that Donnie’s fascination with the doll was growing into an obsession. 

One night, during one of Mikey and Raph’s tussles in the dining room, the doll was knocked off the corner of the table and trampled. Donnie had immediately shrieked, diving for the doll only to find that it’s two button eyes had snapped in two. Donnie had been so distraught that Mikey and Raph had immediately stopped wrestling to watch their brother rush into his lab and lock the door behind him. 

Donnie had emerged with the doll early the next morning, just as Leo was waking to make the morning tea. Though Leo could see that the doll’s eyes had been meticulously fixed with some super glue, he could tell that Donnie had spent the entire night on the task. His eyes were bloodshot and his words seemed to slur in the way only the turtle’s occasional all-nighters seemed to convey. From that point on, Donnie protected the doll like it was his child. It wasn’t just always around Donnie anymore, it was always on his person, either in his hand or secured around his belt straps, sometimes even during practice where he was growing increasingly distracted. When Donnie started to skip morning training, remaining cooped up his laboratory, Leo decided it was time to intervene. 

Leo found Donnie hunched over a large lab table covered end-to-end with the old burned papers from the house fire. There were far more than Leo remembered Donnie taking back with them all those months ago, indicating he had made a few subsequent trips back to the wreckage. The doll was in its usual place, right beside Donnie as he scoured the papers, though the sight of the plush toy sent a shiver down Leo’s spine. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the doll’s face for a while, but Leo could now see that it had grown even more worn and disheveled despite Donnie’s maintenance. Leo could see a new set of string holding a tear along the doll’s lower leg. The fabric around the doll’s face no longer looked as warm and inviting as a toy should, but instead looked thin and haggard; there was only so much sewing kit could do. 

When Leo had tapped his distracted brother on the shoulder, he had nearly taken a step back after seeing his sunken eyes and weary face. Despite the deep bags that had formed beneath Donnie’s eyes, his eyes themselves were wide and frantic. Leo barely got a word in edgewise as Donnie explained that he had finally managed to salvage enough of Mr. Mendez’s work to piece together some of his theories on biological repair, regeneration, and preservation. Leo could tell Donnie was excited, but as he rambled on about possible remedies for severe injury, Leo noticed a large cut along the side of Donnie’s thigh. When Leo interrupted Donnie to inquire, Donnie claimed that he had scraped his leg against a piece of wood gathering some of the papers. He said it wasn’t deep or serious or anything but Leo couldn’t help but notice the half dozen stitches weaving across the dark scar. Leo had tried to coax Donnie away from his work to join the family for dinner and though Donnie said he’d be out in a minute, his plate went cold and was ultimately poached by Mikey. 

~~~~~

Donnie missed dinner with the family the next three nights, prompting Leo, concerned, to start bringing food to Donnie in his lab. That way he knew that his brother was getting at least some nourishment, and meant that Leo could keep an eye on him as his obsession with his new project grew. Leo had seen Donnie become completely engrossed in his work before, but this time felt different. Seemingly overnight, the tables of sprawling paper turned into elaborate assemblies of chemistry equipment and workstations. Donnie was preparing for something, but Leo didn’t quite know what. 

~~~~~

The next day, Donnie left the lair for the first time in as long as Leo could remember on a supply mission. Leo was relieved that Donnie was finally getting out of his lab, but that relief quickly turned to concern when Donnie didn’t return by lunch, dinner, or even when Splinter went to bed. Leo had been in the kitchen, tiding up when Donnie crept in just before midnight and swiftly slipped off to his lab without a word. Leo didn’t know what he was more concerned about, Donnie’s mysterious late curfew or the cage strapped over his back that he had somehow procured, or the soft croaking sounds that had been emanating from within. 

~~~~~

The next morning, Leo paused for a second when he entered the lab with some breakfast for Donnie. Amongst the array of bubbling beakers and swirling glass tubes was a large terrarium stationed in the center of the room filled with frogs. The large amphibians hopped about the crowded, slimy confines of the glass container, some lapping up a pile of food pellets in the corner while others crawling on top of one another, as if trying to escape.

A space had been cleared out beside the terrarium where a small metallic slab, a tray of sharp tools, and a variety of small medical grade pill bottles were laid out in an orderly fashion. Donnie was hunched over the sleek metal slab, his mouth covered with a white mask. As Leo drew closer, he could see his brother maneuvering a needle along the entire length of the inner thigh of a frog that lay motionless on its back. Leo noted the bottle of anesthetic and a nearby needle near the head of the frog, but that didn’t make him any less wary of the odd twitching of the frog’s limbs or the strange vial of black fluid sat in a holder by Donnie’s left. 

With one final cinch, Donnie tied off the final stitch before turning toward his uneasy brother and taking his mask off. The excited look on Donnie’s face was one that Leo couldn’t deny; he hadn’t seen his brother so happy in a long time. Despite the joy, the bags under Donnie’s eyes had become dark and swollen while small speckles of blood coated the edges of his face, likely from the little experiment he was carrying out. 

“You’re just in time, Leo,” Donnie said excitedly. “I pieced together enough of Dr. Mendez’s notes to replicate his in vivo tissue preservation formulation involving anti-inflammatory agents, anti-apoptotic mediators, pro-proliferants, and….” Leo could barely pay attention to Donnie as he grabbed food directly from the tray in Leo’s hand and espoused on the intricate scientific details of the eerily black concoction he had synthesized; Leo was too focused on the frog on the table. As Donnie talked, the frog slowly seemed to arouse, shuddering before flipping over onto its feet. 

Donnie paused in excited anticipation as the frog started to hop around the table as if there wasn’t a large incision along its leg. Donnie was overjoyed until a soft snap was heard and the frog’s leg opened up. The wound gushed blood, though far darker than any Leo had seen before. He stepped back as Donnie leaped forward to tend to his subject. As he did, Leo noticed the stitches on Donnie’s own thigh were beginning to fray. Leo tried to bring it up, but Donnie shooed him away, focusing once again on his project. “I must be missing a sheet somewhere…” 

~~~~~

“Accelerated but transient tissue repair,” is the explanation that Donnie gave when Leo returned that evening with more food for his brother. Leo could tell by his tone that Donnie was frustrated yet still determined. He barely looked up from his notes as he prepared another elixir, prompting Leo to simply place his brother’s dinner on the edge of the table. As Leo turned to leave, he noticed the doll once again. Instead of being right by Donnie’s side, it had been pushed toward the far corner of the table behind a pair of beakers along the edge of a rusty drill bit; unprotected and neglected. 

On his way out of the lab, he noticed a long frog leg sticking out of the trash. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Donnie wasn’t looking before pushing aside a handful of crumpled paper towels. Below them was the frog Donnie had operated on that morning or rather the corpse of the frog his brother had experimented on. The frog’s body was cold and static, the life drained from its eyes as its body had taken on a darker tone. The stitching along the leg had partially frayed, causing the limb to dangle loosely while a blackened sheen lining the two separated visceral surfaces. Donnie must have done more with the frog after he had left because one of his upper limbs was stitched together while a chunk of flesh was missing from its back. Leo’s stomach churned from the gruesome display, noting that the noxious smell of swamp and blood wasn’t helping matters. Leo quickly rushed out of the lab and headed for the bathroom to scrub his hands. 

~~~~~

“Donnie! What happened?” Leo cried as he set the tray of food down on the lab bench and rushed over to Donnie. The turtle was hunched over a medical kit by his surgical set-up, putting the last few stitches into a large laceration across his palm.  
“Just a little accident. I’m still in one piece,” Donnie assured. “Nothing to worry about.” Leo stayed for a few minutes to make sure that Donnie ate a little food as he grabbed a paper towel to help clean up the large droplets of blood on the edge of the table and the bloodied knife on the surgical stand. When Donnie final convinced Leo that he’d take it easy for the rest of the day, Leo had made his way out of the lab. It was only later that a thought occurred to Leo: there hadn’t been a frog on Donnie’s surgical table. What had he been using the knife for? 

~~~~~

Over the next few days, Leo’s interactions with Donnie grew increasingly brief as Donnie grew more and more engrossed in his experiments. Mikey, Raph, and even Master Splinter tried to pull the purple-banded turtle away from his work, but all their attempts were unsuccessful. Donnie began to spend every night curled up on his cot in the lab or simply passed out face first on the lab table. Donnie was running himself ragged, complaining to Leo about the limitations of his amphibian subjects and the puzzling complexities of Dr. Mendez’s vague, incomplete notes. 

Leo noticed his brother looking a little thinner around the cheeks and limbs, a testament to the vague bites of food that Leo would see on the trays of food he brought Donnie when dropping off another meal. Sometimes, Leo would leave both trays of food, hoping his brother would partake, but rarely did that happen and instead, he’d find Donnie baring down on another frog subject, his eyes wide and unblinking and his food untouched.

Cuts and bruises began to appear on Donnie’s hands and arms, the result of accidental slips and scraps from his tools, at least according to Donnie. Occasionally, Leo would find a few of the cuts open and weeping pus along Donnie’s skin while the turtle obliviously continued his work. Leo would have to physically force Donnie to tend to his wounds, which was, much like bringing Donnie his food, becoming a job all on its own. When Leo realized that Donnie hadn’t showered for two weeks, he had put his foot down. He gave Donnie a stern lecture about personal hygiene and bodily care, pointing out his yellowing teeth and the sores along his chin, and though Donnie seemed receptive, and did hop in the shower for nearly two hours, the intervention was, ultimately, short-lived. 

~~~~~

Leo walked into the lab to find Donnie hacking the legs off one of his frogs, ignoring the pooling blood on his crude operating table already stained in blood and viscera. Before Leo could open his mouth, Donnie poured two globs of black viscous fluid from one his chemical flasks on the frog’s two open stumps. He then crudely jammed the frog’s legs back in place. Grunting, Donnie held the legs flush against the wound for a minute for eventually releasing them. He then grabbed is clipboard and noted the spastic twitching motion of the legs that gradually exaggerated as the frog woke back up. A minute later, as the frog hopped around the operating space, his left leg tore off, leaving it turning in a bloodied, croaking circle. Leo thought Donnie would jump to tend to his subject but he remained stoic, observing with a cold, calculating eye as the frog splashed in a pool of its own blood, now oddly dark and viscous, until the fog came to a cold, lifeless stop.

Leo had a stern talk with Donnie about morals and the value of life all of which Donnie rebuffed, claiming such considerations were counterproductive. His work was far too important. He was on the verge of the greatest medical breakthrough of the century, a journey that Dr. Mendez had started and that he was going to finish in his and his daughter’s memory. He had to. It was the only thing that mattered anymore. 

Unsatisfied, Leo had turned and grabbed the doll from behind the pile of beakers and held it up to Donnie. The doll had speckles of frog blood and chemical burns along its fabric while a tear had formed along one of its legs. How could Donnie honor Dr. Mendez and his daughter if he treated the daughter’s doll like this? If he neglected it like he was neglecting his own wellbeing? Donnie remained defiant, ripping the doll from Leo’s hand and turning his back on him. Leo, knowing he wasn’t going to make any headway with the most stubborn of his brothers, stomped out of the lab in a huff.

What is wrong with him? Leo thought to himself as he went to the dojo to mediate. Despite trying to clear his head, the question continued to plague Leo’s mind, but the more he considered it, the less angry he became and the more genuine concern rose within him. What was wrong with Donnie? 

~~~~~

The next morning, when Leo was bringing Donnie his breakfast, he found the lab door locked. Beside it, there was a small stool with a note: Food Here. Leo tried pounding on the door, to get Donnie to open up, but he heard no footsteps on the other side of the door, only the croak of frogs and the sound of power tools. 

~~~~~

For the few days, Leo hoped that Donnie would unlock his lab door for him. He’d knock and wait, knock and wait, but never received an answer. Leo took some relief in the fact that Donnie was eating, as every time he went to replace the tray of food, he’d find it picked clean. After nearly a week of the new routine, Leo figured it was time to intervene. He set the food tray down and waited outside the lab door for Donnie to show. Leo waited for nearly two hours until he heard the soft clink of a lock and the creak of the metallic door slowly opening. The door only swung open a few inches, just enough for Donnie’s hand to emerge. The turtle’s hand was gnarled, with cuts lining his digits and his patchy green skin harboring more than three dozen stitches. What looked like pus oozed from several of the wounds, though Leo couldn’t ever remember seeing such black and viscous fluid except with the…

Leo rushed toward the door as Donnie’s hand grabbed the tray and retreated inside. Leo pounded his fist against the door just as it shut and the lock was put back in place. 

“Open the door, Donnie!” Leo cried. 

“I can’t do that, Leo,” Donnie’s voice said calmly through the door. 

“Yes, you can!” Leo pleaded. 

“You’ll only get in the way.”

“You’re hurt, Donnie!” Leo said, collapsing forward against the door, desperate. “Let me help you. Let us help you!” 

There was a pause before Leo heard the door lock click again and slowly open. Though the lab was dark, Leo could still see the thick streak of blood dripping off the edge of the lab table and pooling on the floor. Two scalpels lay along the edge of the table, the light glistening off their sharp, blood-soaked edges. 

“Donnie, what are you doing?” Leo said, following the trail of blood along the floor toward where Donnie was standing. 

“My work,” Donnie said as Leo new droplets of blood dripping onto the floor. He slowly raised his head and saw that the doll was gripped in Donnie’s fist. The doll was falling apart at the seams, the fabric fraying, peeling away, and discolored from blood oozing, but that wasn’t what caught Leo’s eye. It was the Three parallel lines of parting flesh equidistant from one another descending from Donnie’s knuckles that wept a dark, crimson flood; blood wasn’t that black or thick. 

“Donnie,” Leo said, paralyzed in shock. “What…?” 

“I think you need to leave, Leo,” Donnie said. His skin was colored and haggard, like it was moments away from peeling off his body. Dark splotches dotted his sunken cheeks while cuts lined his nostrils and the corners of his eyes. Blood stained the sides of his face and formed a ring along a long stitched-up scar that wrapped around his shoulder. He was falling apart at the seams just like…

“Wait!” Leo said, just as Donnie slammed the door on his face. “You have to stop this!” 

“I’m too close now,” Donnie called, his voice growing faint. “So very close.”

~~~~~

Leo immediately ran to grab Splinter and his brothers to try and get through to Donnie. They tried pleading with him and when that failed they tried busting the door down but to no avail. They tried going through the garage where the Shellraiser was housed but found it was welded shut. Mikey even tried to climb through the ventilation system but found it too was impenetrable, save for the putrid odors emanating from within. 

~~~~~

Leo lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. Though it was late, and he was exhausted, his mind was racing: Donnie. There had to be a way to get through to him, there just had to be… There was a sudden crash in the distance. Leo froze, listening to the distant sound of rummaging before he sat up straight in bed: Donnie! There was no one else in the lair that’d be up at this late hour. Leo knew this might be the only chance he had to intervene with his brother; he had to do something! He quickly rushed out of his room, down the hall, and into the lair. The room was dark, but Leo easily maneuvered around the couch and head toward the kitchen. He couldn’t see anyone in the dim light but felt his way to the kitchen light switch by the wall. 

Flicking it on, Leo jumped back in horror. There was a large pool of dark blood on the floor just in front of the sink. Its pool seemed to creep forward along the floor as it’s edges were smeared with the outlines of footsteps that moved toward the pantry, to the fridge, and back again. Bloodied handprints lined the fridge handle and the utensil drawers along the kitchen counter. Blood dripped from the edge of the sink onto the floor, landing in thick droplets that made a soft splat against the cement floor. 

Tiptoeing around the bloody mess on the floor, Leo peered into the sink and saw that it was caked in red, covering the plates and utensils that had yet to be washed from dinner that night. Small bits of food speckled the blood, and upon further investigation, Leo realized they weren’t bits of old food from dinner: they were teeth. Sheets of peeled skin hung loosely along the edge of the sink, causing Leo’s stomach to churn. He stepped back, only to bump into the island. Turning around he felt his heart skip as on the counter was the tip of a finger. Small bits of frayed string dangled over the uneven split edges of the nub as the digit oozed onto the counter. Leo’s mind raced as he tried to take in the gruesome scene, only to notice a small figure on the table: the doll. 

Dried brown blood soaked the doll’s tattered fabric. The doll was missing a leg and instead had red stuffing spilling out from its insides despite the several sets of multicolored stitches lining where a repaired leg would have once been. The doll was missing a button eye while the other dangled forward on the loosest of strings. The side of the doll’s face was peeling off while her arm was so thread bear that cotton was flaking off onto the counter. A bright red outline of a hand wrapped around the doll’s torso, glistening in the kitchen light much like the puddle of blood on the floor. He was just here!

Leo noticed the bloodied footsteps moved toward the blackness of the hallway; toward Donnie’s lab. Leo slowly followed the steps out of the waning kitchen light and into the hallway, noticing that the steps were irregular and uneven. Quickly, Leo came across another pool of blood. A pus and blood-soaked foot wrap lay in a heap in the middle of the pool, covering up two small objects. Looking closer, Leo realized they were blackened toes with bits of flaking skin and the nubs of veins and ligaments jutting out of them. Leo knew something was seriously wrong as he quickened his pace down the hall. Donnie! 

Large, bloodied teeth lined the floor like breadcrumbs, as Leo rushed to Donnie’s lab, only stopping just in front of the door to inspect the streaks of blood dripping from the handle. The door was slightly ajar and a dim light poured out into the hallway. Leo peered through the opening but saw little more than the corner of the central lab table. A foul smell permeated out into the hall, causing Leo’s nose to scrunch and his stomach to churn.

“Once we piece you together we’ll go back for Dolly,” a voice said from behind the door. Leo recognized it as Donnie’s but his tone was calm and almost joyful. Taking a deep breath, Leo slowly pushed open the door and immediately froze. Sitting in a chair by the lab table facing Leo was Donnie. 

The turtle’s legs were spread to the side of a growing puddle of dark red blood on the floor. His feet were jagged with the nubs of missing toes and the remains of lacerated digits that were crudely held together with fraying stitches. Blood oozed from between the strands of string, just as they did from the open wound on his left calf. A large chunk of Donnie’s calf sloughed off and fell into the puddle of blood with a meaty splash, revealing the whites of the turtle’s tibia and fibula below. The wound oozed a thick black mucous that drained down toward his feet, tumbling over the multitude of other stitches and bandages that seemed to be holding the lower limbs together. His left thigh appeared to be dangling by just an upper row of twitches by his waist with blood dripping out the broad open on the bottom. 

A multitude of cracks, chips, and discolorations covered the front of Donnie’s shell, while his left arm hung by his side, limp as it seemed to be attached by only a few strands of string. Leo saw Donnie reach toward the table with his other hand, grabbing a vial of his black fluid simply pouring it over the wound of his arm. Leo watched the fluid flow like syrup down Donnie’s side and dripping into the puddle with thick, loud plops. 

“There we go,” Donnie said, his tone calm. He then reached for a needle and thread and began to loop his mangled figures through the top of his arm, putting it back in its place. Gradually, Leo saw the finger’s in the left arm start to twitch, as life returned to their stagnant forms, though this didn’t stop the black fluid from oozing out of the scraps and scars along his arm and to the floor. 

“Just gotta piece it together. Piece it together. Piece it together….” Donnie muttered as he grabbed the vial of fluid. He dumped the contents over his leg before grabbing the needle again and now with two hands began to stitch his leg back into place. Leo took in a sharp breath that caused Donnie to pause, mid-stitch. Slowly, Donnie raised his head, causing Leo to gasp. 

A chunk of skin was missing from the corner of Donnie’s threaded mouth, revealing his bloodied molars and the dark gaps were teeth had once been. Donnie’s left eye dangled forward out of its blackened socket, connected by the threads of his optic nerve that looked like at any moment would finally give out. Dark fluid oozed from his mouth like saliva while the other corner of Donnie’s lips moved up into a mangled smile. 

“I did it, Leo,” Donnie said slowly. “I finally pieced it all together.” 

“I… Don… uh…” Leo stammered, his voice catching in his throat. 

“Total vital preservation,” Donnie continued. “With just a little bit of Mendez Fluid, the body can be kept alive far beyond anything we ever thought possible! Any wound is now viable, any injury is now fixable. It’s a scientific miracle!” Donnie slowly stood up from the chair, his bone cracking and the stitching on his arm separating again. Leo remained frozen in place as his brother slowly limped toward him, his half attached leg dragging like a rag doll behind him. Leo shuddered as Donnie stopped just a few inches from his face, his eyes wide and staring directly at Leo. 

“Don’t you see? Dr. Mendez and his daughter didn’t die for nothing now. I have vindicated their suffering with the greatest medical finding of our era!” 

“This is wrong,” is all Leo could muster. 

“No, it’s progress. Besides, I seem to recall you wanting to help me.” Donnie said with a smirk as he tightened his grip on Leo’s shoulder. Leo yelped out in pain as he felt Donnie’s fingers piece into his flesh. Leo shuddered as he felt his warm blood start to trickle down his back. Donnie pulled a small vial of black fluid from his mangled utility belt and held it up to the light. “I think it’s time to take you up on that offer.”


End file.
